Control Z
by Seaki
Summary: Sometimes things just happen when you don't want them to. Rated T, just in case.


**Control Z**

Dedicated to: Pika Pants

**Part 1: Addicted to Gone**

He could feel the bile crawl up his throat like a bitter snake stalking its prey. A pale, calloused hand pressed harshly against chapped lips in a sad attempt to stop the need to heave. He swallowed once to get rid of that strange watery feeling that tickled the back of his throat.

It had been three days - three agonizing, torturous days. The red-head was shaking – lack of nicotine, lack of sleep, food, _answers. _Lack of Mello…

Every addiction and craving would take away from his time to find Mello. The only thing coursing through his system was adrenaline, and still, no one would answer. Did he have to find everything himself? Matt held back a choked sob of frustration, hand still rocking with tremors as he forced it through his matted hair.

Everything was happening too quickly. The life that had taken a steady lull and completely shattered around him – was it an illusion? A dream? He had clung to that idea of normalcy for a long while, pretending to ignore his addiction in futile attempt to keep everything at a steady flow.

But everything changed.

And Mello was gone.

Gone…

The tears he had desperately tried to keep within him had spilled forth as if some leaver had been pulled on a dam. Pale, shaking hands wrapped upon a thinning frame in a fruitless attempt to calm the tremors, to force away the tears.

But the tears continued to flow.

He didn't know how long he sat on Mello's bed, curled around Mello's pillow and breathing in Mello's scent, but that was where he was found. It took thirty-five minutes and twelve seconds for the nurse to pry him from Mello's bed with a new found strength that came only with panic.

After the thirteenth second, black pulled at his vision and he felt, heard, _craved_ no more…

There was nothing, and everything had just disappeared.

Everything was white, blinding, fast, and bitter. He closed his eyes against the sights and sounds, trying to force the oddly comforting darkness to embrace him again, but the sheer craving of Mello had returned, full force.

Mello…

His search! He was only vaguely aware of the happenings. He could hear people shouting about someone being awake, he could barely feel the hand trying to guide him back to the bed. He hadn't noticed the IV that had torn from his arm. It was like a gray haze had enveloped his body so completely he couldn't tell what was what, and there was only Mello.

Mello, who wasn't even _there_.

He was sure he made it as far as the door before the blackness started creeping at his vision again. He didn't know how he was lead back to awkward hospital bed, and the fog still hadn't clear. Would it clear? He couldn't tell what the person was saying – whoever had lead him back to this god-awful bed when he should be at least _trying_.

How long had he been forced from his search? He gave a small whine when the person told him the date. They didn't matter at all but for the information they held. Five days he had been asleep. Five days he _could_ have been searching.

How could he be so foolish?

It took another two days, seven hours, twenty minutes, and twenty-four seconds before they released him - something about being in a coma and needing to take better care of his body. By then, everything had slowed down, but not to a soothing lull. It was dead, cold, unfeeling.

He couldn't breathe…

He could feel the eyes on him, watching and waiting, like a panther teasing its prey before pouncing on its prey. He was far from unsuspecting. He could hear their whispers through the fog. They spoke of suicide, how something like this happened before with another of L's successors.

He did his best to ignore them, trying to pretend everything was normal, but it wasn't. It couldn't be with Mello gone. If he closed his eyes and listened, he could still hear Mello's voice sometimes. It helped, but it made the reality that much more unbearable. What if…?

What if he never saw Mello again?

The days flew by in a haze. Ever instance, every moment, that passes, it got harder and harder, and his eyes became duller and duller.

Once again, his world would shatter.

**Noted:** My writers block is really sucking. I'm trying to get rid of it. Hope you enjoyed. – Count: 733


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